


The Angst Bard's Tales

by FirenzeSun



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, most of them have happy endings, twitfics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirenzeSun/pseuds/FirenzeSun
Summary: Drabble adapted from my twitfics (@flordefandom). Edited and enhanced. They're mostly angst with happy endings. The ones that don't it's usually bittersweet. But most of them end with some form of a happy ending.I like to look at Geralt and Jaskier's broken parts and heal them.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> tw: No happy ending/bittersweet ending; major character death

It was Geralt's fault. He left the bard to go alone in a mountain where monsters roam. So when he finally goes down the path and finds his bloodied body, he knows it's his fault. He screams and cries, and regrets everything.

He should have never pushed the bard away.

He should have pushed him away sooner, safe in some city.

He should have told him how much he meant to him.

He should have-

But it's too late now.

He burns the body. The beautiful face that would never smile again disappearing behind the flames. He forces himself to look. To face the consequences of his action.

He buries the ashes and picks up the lute as penance.

_ Give to you my panence _

_ Garroter, jury and judge _

He'll never hear his songs again. He'll hear bastardized versions, sing by talentless bards. But never by him. Not again.

Night comes and he keeps walking. His mind lost in the sorrow until his legs bend down and he falls to his knees, lute firm in his hands as he cries.

"I thought you'd be happy," a voice that he thought he'd never hear again says.

Geralt looks up terrified. Jaskier smirks sadly.

"I died violently with pain in my heart, what were you expecting?"

"But I-"

"Cremated and buried my body, yes. But honestly, and you call yourself a Witcher." Jaskier looks at the lute still in Geralt's hand. "You know what you have to do."

Geralt's grip on the lute tightens.

"So you push me away, and then you'll let me turn into a wraith because you can't let me go."

"Jask- I-"

Jaskier humms. "I know, I suppose. Maybe this will give you the time to find the words you actually want to say. But I won't make it easy," he warns him. "Dammit, Geralt, it's only been hours and I'm fighting it already. I can feel it. Feel myself slipping into all the pain, I can feel it starting to turn into rage."

"I'm sorry."

"You know it'll take you more than that."

Geralt looks down.

Jaskier sighs.

"I suppose I could make one last song, and charge you with sharing it. It'll be a good penance to you, and it'll buy me time."

"I'll do anything," Geralt rushes to say.

Jaskier smiles sadly again. "Almost anything."

~*~

After Geralt passes down the papers where he wrote Jaskier's songs. After he apologized a thousand times in a hundred different ways. Jaskier's still there.

Sometimes there's rot in his cheeks. Sometimes his clothes look torn. They don't have much time.

It's one ordinary night, they're chatting next to a fire. Just them and Roach.

It's like nothing has changed, save that the light passes through Jaskier. The bugs fly through him.

Geralt's ready.

"I love you," he says. "I loved you since almost the beginning. Sorry for not telling you sooner."

Jaskier looks beautiful as he smiles.

"I love you too, my Witcher. Since I first saw you."

Geralt goes to him and kisses him, even if their lips aren't really touching. Looking at Jaskier's blue eyes, he throws the lute into the fire.

For the briefest moment, Jaskier looks alive. By the next moment, he's gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Suicidal attempt

Yennefer doesn't know what drives her. But suddenly, she feels dread and she's creating a portal following the feeling. She sees the bard. Geralt's bard. And for less than a second, she thinks it was a false alarm.

But then she sees the dagger in his hand, too close to his wrist, and she feels the dread again. She doesn't think as she runs, and grabs the bard's hands from behind. Holding him.

The dagger falls to the floor.

"Let me go," he cries.

"No," Yen says and she can feel his sobs against her chest as his back heaves against her. She's basically hugging him from behind as she keeps holding his hands with strength. "He's not worthy."

His eyes meet hers in the mirror.

The scene is so familiar to her.

Did she had the same desperation? The same loneliness? Is this what Tissaia saw? Is this how she had felt when she saved her?

"You hate me that much that you would have me to continue to suffer?" he asks, and the fight has left him.

"I like you that much that I wouldn't see you dead," she admits.

She had never seen how similar she was to the bard.

Jaskier sags against her chest, welcoming her hug. Even as he refuses her words. "Why would you? Nobody can stand me. I'm nothing but a burden and an idiot."

"You're an idiot, but only for giving credence to his words." She can hear what Geralt has said to him in his mind. And for the first time in a long time, she feels anger in somebody else's name. "Never give them that power over you."

They had made their way to the floor, where Jaskier sits surrounded by her arms. She finally lets go of his hands, and turns her hands upwards. Lets him see her wrists. "My father sold me for four marks. And look at me now. Nobody else is worth your life, little lark."

"But I love him," Jaskier confesses turning around to lay his head in her chest. Somehow, he trusts her now and Yennefer knows that's a beautiful gift. Even if it was born in these circumstances.

"Still doesn't make him worth it."

"I'm the one who's not worth it."

Yennefer sighs.

"I wouldn't be here if you weren't. Not just anybody makes friends with a powerful sorceress like me."

She feels how he flinches at the word friends and she knows she said the right thing.

"You're not bad yourself," Jaskier says, his arms going around her waist. Embracing her.

She knows she's now visible to him. Just like that and she's not longer a sorceress, a rival, a piece of meat. He knows that from now on, Jaskier will always see her for the woman she is.

"Sleep, little lark," she says kissing the crown of his head. "Tomorrow will be a different day."

The bard is not healed.

There's much he has to do, things he's got to learn. Geralt will have to repent, and Jaskier will have to not wait his approval.

And Yen, Yen will be there. To kick Geralt's idiotic ass, and to hug the bard as he sleeps.

Tomorrow, she'll bring him breakfast, and they'll chat about court gossip. Tomorrow, his smiles will still tremble, but they'll be more genuine.

And tomorrow, they'll both be less alone.


End file.
